


Vignette One

by missingmymothership



Series: Pojūtis ir Spalvos [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Synesthesia, synesthete!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingmymothership/pseuds/missingmymothership
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes up in the middle of the night. </p><p>*Written by an actual synnie!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vignette One

Will sat up in the blue darkness, the sound of Hannibal’s breath brushing against his shoulders like feathers. The sheets rustled when he swung out of bed: cotton swabs and the cold press of steel. If that hadn’t been the same for decades, he’d think that it was a flashback to when he’d been gutted like a fish.

It’d been hard to think about for years, and then Dolarhyde mutilated his face and it got easier. His feet were silent on the carpet. Will wasn’t sure where he was walking, only that he needed to walk; it wasn’t uncommon for him or for Hannibal, some nights. The man slept easily but not often. Will didn’t get the luxury of either.

The sound of his breath in the dark was different from Hannibal’s, less feathers, more water trailing down his back. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and poured himself a glass of orange juice. The sound was fingers tapping at his jaw.

Sounds were not just sensations but also colors and textures. Jack’s voice had been saffron yellow and grainy, and Alana’s was something deep and rich that he could never pin down. The clink of the glass against the marble countertop was light and round and something brushing against his right ear. Will sighed. He needed to go back to sleep.

Setting his empty glass in the sink, he made his way back to the bedroom and sat gently on the bed. Not a stirring from Hannibal. 

Will lay down on top of the sheets and closed his eyes.

The shivers he got and the warm arm that Hannibal wrapped around him were the faded blue-green of Radiohead, and he let himself sink back into the static.

There was nothing else left to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at lamby-grahamy!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it--there's more to come. :)


End file.
